Project Eveningland

5/7/2023 Sunday

The privy at The Priest shelter area is closed. It’s too full, they said. People kept using it. They bolted it shut. No idea what has to be done to restore it to working order, but I’m eager to get down in there and get my hands dirty, Shawshank Redemption style. Honey dipping is in my blood.

Everyone was gone by the time I was up and around. Even the military guys down the hill who’d sounded like they might stay up late talking into the night. The temperature was very comfortable for such a high altitude. The trail has been empty. I mean, there’re day hikers and a handful of AT-ers, but nobody I really connect with. And maybe that’s for the best: I’m a monster when I’m short on food like this.

The first part of the day was a long descent. I used the time to catch up on my legal podcasts. I learned about Chevron deference. Lots of dogs, day hikers, and trail runners in the area. I was happy to get low enough for shade (trees high up are still leafing).

I crossed the Tye River on a bouncy suspension bridge. It was hot and sunny. I was drenched in sweat. Then there was a two-mile climb to a trail junction.

I took the alternate route! It’s the Mau-Har Trail. It takes you up steeply and then descends into a creek-and-waterfall-filled valley! I’m so glad I took the alternate. It was a fairytale setting, with a rushing creek and steep inclines on either side. The waterfalls—which go on for what felt like half a mile—roar over big, rounded boulders.

Here and there the creek splits into tiny streams at the edges. The rocks, tilted at random angles, create all manner of fascinating little crevices, and tiny mossy islands. Huge, dead tree trunks, fallen titans all, lean into the water. Sticks collect against them, creating dams. An endless number of perfect, clear swimming holes beckon. But I’m covered in DEET and my time here is limited. Also, they’d be cold!

The forest in this area has such a verticality. You get the sense that you’re only on one level, but there are many levels above and below you, filled with activity and noise. The closest comparison is being downtown in an older city, like Pittsburgh. Only instead of honking and loud Steelers talk, you get rushing water and cacophonous birdsong.

I was glad I’d resisted the siren call of those swimming holes when the rain came. The alternate route might be shorter, but it was rugged as hell! Lots of scrambling up rocks that would have been a real pain to clamber over in the rain. Those three miles took me almost 2.5 hours!

I reached Maupin Field Shelter just before three, where the alternate route rejoins the main trail. The rain had become steadier and I sought refuge in the shelter, briefly. I was joined by another hiker who’d been at the shelter area last night. He sounded like he might stop there. He said he had wanted to get closer to town. I felt very depressed about the 20 miles between me and town. I really biffed on this food carry and now I’m hungry and tired and there are so many more miles to do and it’s raining.

I mounted my umbrella on my pack straps and headed out into the rain. The day was growing short and I still had seven miles to go.

It was hungry, wet, rocky ridge-walking for most of the rest of the day. Those rocks were slippery when wet! The rain did finally taper off.

I grabbed water from the spring next to Dripping Rock Parking Area. I ate a humble, humble dinner while I was at it. My plan was to fill up there and then just walk to the first good campsite. It took me about a mile to find one. It’s a small flat spot right on the trail, beneath a huge rock outcropping and with good views. Not too many places to dig a cat hole up here though.

I’ve got a 14 mile walk into Waynesboro tomorrow. I have some food, but not 14 miles worth. Maybe I can score some snacks from day hikers.

Is that owl song? Delightful.